The Signs of a Body
by Her Sweetness
Summary: AU oneshot. Over the hoilday period, Mello finds the meaning of Christmas with a little help from a quirky stranger named L and, of course, Patrick Swayze. Slight crack.


A/N: _Here's something for you - I was ashamed to not have put out anything for the holiday season… This AU oneshot is an experiment, one that was very fun for me to write. I hope you have even more fun reading it. Commence!_

- - -

The very last straw for Mello was when Big Bertha sat down in his chair. He couldn't believe the awful stream of luck he had and he looked around for one of the others, helplessly, longingly, but they were all busy with their own customers and there Mello had been, standing around looking idle and bored. He should have taken Matt's advice and always appear busy, dusting off the counter, maybe recounting tips or something.

But there was nothing he could do as she said to him, "Thirty minutes, please," and it wasn't like she was unkind. No, that was not it. She was sweet as pie with maybe a bit of an Alabama accent and her smile made him feel almost bad for judging her about her weight.

Mello nodded numbly and walked around the chair, pulling apart a paper towel so that she would have a place to lay her head. She put her head down and Mello walked around her as her body sagged off of the chair and wondered how in the hell he was going to go about doing this. It was like massaging a Buick and he certainly had no experience with cars. He rode the bus everyday.

Over his shoulder, he saw his fellow workers look at him and snicker lightly as they worked on their proportionate customers. The bastards.

"Is anything wrong?" she asked, face down on the paper towel.

"No, nothing. Just relax," Mello said, hoping to sound convincing and professional. He sighed and pressed his palms onto her broad back and felt the straps of her bra underneath her blouse.

_If I go hard and slow_, he thought to himself, _if I do that maybe she'll feel it and leave me a nice tip._

And so he commenced. The only reason Mello had taken on this horrible job of giving physical pleasure for money in the middle of the mall was so he could afford Christmas gifts for his family and only friend. If he had known about the hassles of this job, he would have surely gone downstairs to work at Claire's. It would have been so much simpler - Claire's would hire him as eye-candy for the young girls and he would make lots of money, standing there and directing people to the Hannah Montana section.

The only reason the massage parlor had hired him was because there weren't any immediate Asians wandering around downtown. Mello had felt a bit out of place his first day a few weeks ago, not only because he was the only one who spoke fluent English, but because he knew he sucked at giving massages. His co-workers were brilliant - going to work on each of their customers like jackhammers.

Mello didn't give a damn at first - he was only there for the money, but he soon found out that tips could be quite rewarding and it was his damned competitive streak that made him want to get better. He worked tirelessly, and although he watched his counterparts and their techniques, he was only ever able to squeeze and beat, not massage.

Though, really, for someone like this, it must've done some good. Mello grunted and moved around the mound of flesh in the chair, working every part of her body, from shoulders to thighs and back again. He was beginning to sweat and thought dimly that at least he was getting a reasonable workout. He sighed under his breath and checked his watch.

"Only ten minutes?" he muttered, aghast.

He bent over her again, cheeks burning in embarrassment and shame as his coworkers eyed him from their chairs. Just as he moved his hands into her shoulders, trying to find knots underneath miles of flesh, he found himself looking over her parted hair to find two legs ending in raggedy tennis shoes standing close by.

Mello blinked, slightly annoyed, as he continued. It wasn't a new thing, being on the top floor of a popular mall and out in the center of things, sometimes random shoppers liked to stop and gawk for a moment or two. Mello had been told by his boss that when they did that, do some crowd-pleasing moves to generate business.

Mello had no crowd-pleasing moves.

He continued his work and wasn't too sure but his customer might've been asleep as it was getting harder and harder to move her. And those raggedy tennis shoes were still there. Mello raised his head to shoo them away but stopped with words halting on his lips as he looked into the obsidian eyes of a young man. He was standing, a little hunched over with a thumb to his lips, watching Mello's ministrations with great interest.

Something was begging to be said but Mello kept his trap shut and continued, ignoring the man. He seemed homeless with his hair wild like that and those bags under his eyes.

However…

Mello's gaze flickered up to him from time to time. He had caught sight of the wallet in his front pocket and from the looks of it, it was packed. He _could_ be a potential customer, too shy, like many people, to ask for some tending to.

"Hey, man, if you want, I can get you after her," Mello said, swishing some blond hair out of his face.

The man finally looked at him and not his fingers and nodded lightly.

"Okay. You can sit in the chair over there." Mello jerked his elbow to the side where a Lay-Z-Boy sat, unoccupied.

"No, thank you."

"… Okaaay," Mello hummed, turning back to his work.

As it turned out, Big Bertha did fall asleep and Mello felt a sort of accomplishment. His massages weren't crowd-thrillers or whatever his boss had described but they were relaxing. He woke her up gently and directed her towards the cash register, keeping his eye on the strange man who had stood there, watching, for the remaining twenty minutes.

Mello handed her back her change and she smiled and gave him two dollars.

"Thanks," he groaned, staring down at the two bills like a bird had shit in his hand. Where in the world were those twenties that the others got?

"You're welcome," Big Bertha chirped and began to turn away, putting the rest of the money inside her purse.

The strange man walked up to Mello and the blond asked him, "You ready?"

"Mm, no thank you," he said, pressing his thumb harder to his lower lip and looked at Big Bertha as she clicked her purse shut. "But I have a question."

"Um. Yeah?"

"Do you think she felt it?"

"… _What_?"

-

"_What_?" Matt asked, voice a register higher. "You gotta be kidding, that's fucking hilarious!"

Mello grinned into the phone as he sat back on his bed. Outside, the snow was all but slush, filling the gutters and making the lawns look like thick marshes. Mello had to hold himself back from laughing, like he had to do earlier that day in the presence of Big Bertha.

"Yeah, it was pretty funny. But hell, she didn't think so. My boss was called because of the whole ordeal."

"Did you get fired?"

"Nah, why in hell would I get fired? I didn't say anything."

"I'm surprised she didn't take her two bucks back."

"Yeah, me too." Mello sighed, agitated. "This job fucking sucks, Matt, I can't deal with this. Last week, that guy with BO came in and everyone else suddenly and mysteriously got customers. The week before that, that lunatic with the vibrator in his pocket kept wiggling around. And today, I got Obese Bessie!"

Matt sucked his teeth and asked, "I thought her name was Big Bertha?"

"Matt, I don't know her _real_ name!"

"Oh."

"This is too much, I _can't_ take this."

"Aw, hang in there just a little longer, Mel."

"How dare you! This is all to buy _your_ game system!" Mello raged into the phone, balling his fist at the receiver. "You're supposed to tell me to quit, that it's okay and I can buy you Eiffel Tower salt and pepper shakers or something!"

"Oh, but that's so cliché…"

"Who cares? … Sheesh." Mello sighed. "You know, it wouldn't be so bad if I got bigger tips. At this rate, it'd take me months to buy those salt and pepper shakers."

"You could practice on me, Mel."

"That's so considerate of you."

"You know me, I'm always takin' hits for the team."

"… Whatever. Listen, I gotta let you go, Matt, I hear the spaghetti boiling over."

"All right. What time do you go in tomorrow? I'll stop by and stare and make rude comments about your customers. Maybe we can have coffee."

"No, don't come see me at work! This job is embarrassing enough."

"Ashamed of us, huh?"

"Very."

-

Cool Springs mall never put up their large Christmas tree until the fifth of December but their Christmas music started on the first and Mello stood around the next day with a frown on his face. People bustled about with their shopping bags and free candy canes that the Santa downstairs was giving to the children.

The GameStop was across the way from the massage area and Mello looked at the window forlornly, watching as the preteens played with the Wii system on display. Mello looked at the price and was secretly appalled that it hadn't gone down in the past year. If he could just snag a few twenties like everyone else seemed to be doing, he could afford it and quit with his head held high.

Only two of the other chairs were filled and his coworkers worked in silence. Mello wished he could think in silence and ignore the outside world like they did but the sound of Mariah Carey's piercing voice came through the speakers for the seventh time that morning. His eye twitched as he looked up, sending un-Christmassy wishes to whoever operated the music.

"No one seems to be interested in your soliciting today."

Mello gasped and looked to his side where the same man from yesterday, standing there as if he had been stuck inside the mall all night. Mello raised an eyebrow and said, breathlessly, "You like sneaking up on people like that?"

"I didn't mean to sneak," he said.

"Okay… you want a massage?" Mello asked hopefully, gesturing for the man to sit down. He had not forgotten what he had seen and still had hopes of getting a slice of that fat wallet.

He shook his head. "No thank you."

"Hey, what's up with you?" Mello narrowed his eyes, hands on his hips. "You're some kind of pervert? Why do you stand here everyday?"

"I'm a common shopper."

_Oh yeah, that sounded really inconspicuous_, Mello thought and tilted his head to the side. "You don't have any bags," he noted, pointing to the hands he kept in his pockets.

"I'm rather bad at picking out good gifts," he hummed. "I'm L."

"Oh… I'm Mello."

"Where is your nametag?"

Mello shrugged. "We don't wear them here."

"So it _is_ like sexual soliciting - you're all anonymous."

"W-What? Hey! I'm just doing this to buy stupid Christmas presents. Don't judge me. You think I like standing here everyday, listening to this shit?" He pointed towards the ceiling, one of the speakers which flooded music.

L looked up. "I don't know. I rather like being all she wants for Christmas."

"… Huh? Listen, you've got to move along, L. What if someone does want to be… _solicited_, and you're here, standing in the way?"

"Ah. You're right." L nodded and moved two steps to the side.

Mello frowned.

"So, tell me, Mello, who are you purchasing gifts for?" he asked, looking about the moving crowd as they ran amok in and out of stores. "Such a demeaning job would only be undertaken for one you hold dear."

Mello thought about holding Matt dear for a moment and almost gagged. "No, you've got it all wrong. Matt, that's my best friend. And I'm only going out of my way to buy this Nintendo Wii for him because he got me a kick-ass leather outfit."

"From where?"

"Hot Topic."

"… Ah." L seemed thoughtful. "I passed by there today and they seem to be having a sale on all leather items. Fifty percent off. I may have to purchase something for myself at such competitive prices."

"… What."

-

"What?"

"You heard me, asshole! You have me out there working my ass off for pennies a day when you got me cheap leather!"

"Mel, it's Hot Topic. They have sales all the time. Doesn't mean their goods are damaged… Besides, why're you taking some stranger's word over mine?"

Mello stood at the stove, stirring a large pot with his cell phone in between his cheek and shoulder. He grumbled, "I went by on my break and saw the signs myself."

"Oh, okay."

"Okay?" Mello screeched.

"I dunno what the deal is, man. Gifts come from the heart, not the wallet."

"By the time I purchase your gift, I won't have either. Psh, I don't know why I bother with you, you're not even listening."

"Eh?"

"_See_!" Mello groaned, averting his eyes as he listened in to the beeping noises coming from Matt's end of the line. "Anyway, when I got back, that L guy disappeared."

"The guy sounds creepy."

"He _is_."

"Maybe he's vibrator-dude's brother."

"No, he's not ugly or anything, just looks like he got dressed in a closet…"

"So, he's pretty?"

"_No_, I didn't - who the fuck describes men as being pretty?"

Suddenly, the gaming noises stopped. "You said he comes and goes instantly, right?"

"Right…"

"Maybe he's a ghost. Like Patrick Swayze."

"He's not fucking Patrick Swayze!"

The noises resumed. "I got nothing."

-

"Haven't you found any gift yet?" Mello asked, eyes wide as he stared at L without any packages or bags for the third day in a row.

L tilted his head. "I am not good at gift selecting."

"Why do you always come _here_?"

"For healthy conversation."

"… But I'm working-"

"I don't remember seeing very many people in your chair," he noted quietly, looking down at the black seat.

Mello sighed and shook his head. "It's because I've got my own personal scarecrow…"

"That seems counterproductive."

Mello stared at L for a moment and L stared back, their eyes locked in some unspoken competition. Mello lost, unable to stand the stares they began to receive from passers-by, and sank into his chair, his head in his hands. "This is hopeless," he moaned. "Matt really is going to have to settle for Eiffel Tower salt and pepper shakers for Christmas."

L sighed. "That's the problem with the holidays. So commercialized. I would be happy to get those salt and pepper shakers."

_Well, that's because you're weird_, Mello thought but instead, mumbled, "Oh really?"

"Yes, I do love seasonings."

"Oh, I give up," he groaned, throwing his arms into the air.

"Don't give up," L said. "The holidays will be over before you know it and it'll be summer."

"Annoyances don't go away because the _seasons_ change, L."

"Mine do. Summer is swimsuit season."

"…"

"Mello?" One of the other men who worked at the massage parlor walked over and pointed to the blond. "You want your break now? Everyone else is too busy to take one so you can go ahead."

Mello shook his head, fighting a headache and said, "Sure, fine, I'll go."

"Okay. … Oh, and Mello?"

"Yeah?"

He pointed to L. "You can't really spend all day talking to your friend."

Mello looked at L and frowned deeply.

-

L had disappeared once again, lost in the crowds or either just went home. Mello looked around self-consciously and tried to find some spiky black hair in the mobs but could see none. He was seriously starting to consider Matt's proposal, that maybe he _was_ Patrick Swayze.

Mello sidestepped the food court in favor of shopping around, trying to find something under twenty dollars he could give to Matt as an acceptable I.O.U until he got better at massaging. There were signs everywhere - twenty percent off, fifty percent off, two for one - and Mello couldn't see anything that would suit Matt's particular taste. Even at Hot Topic, the only things on sale were the Hello Kitty collection and more leather. He briefly thought of getting Matt a leather skirt so that he'd have something more tangible to jack off to other than the computer screen.

In the end, he emerged from the store, bag less, and was about to head back to work before a large red sale sign caught his eye. He headed over in the direction of Abercrombie and Fitch.

-

December fifth rolled around and the mall was abuzz with sales and excitement over the men moving the tree in earlier that day. Mello didn't come in until early afternoon and held a box under his arm that he'd bought for ten cents at the dollar store the night before.

He hung around his chair and waited for L to come around, for his daily dose of healthy conversation and scaring off Mello's business. But he didn't come. And, proving Mello's previous hypothesis, he did get a customer, a young man who asked for twelve minutes.

Mello sat down his box beneath the chair and decided that he would give this man his all. For those twelve minutes, Mello put more concentration and attention into his ministrations than he ever had to anything else - tests in school or even streetlights. He found knots and read the man's body moving under his hands, tried to get everywhere it could possibly hurt.

When the twelve minutes were over, Mello directed the man to the cash register and gave him back his change. The man took it and pulled a twenty out of his wallet, handing it over to a stunned Mello.

"Merry Christmas," the man said and smiled, walking away as he did so.

"T-Thank you," Mello sputtered, grinning madly at the bill in his hand. He stuffed it in his back pocket and sat down in his chair to temporarily love life.

On his break, Mello took the box he had and went to the first floor to find L. He had to be here somewhere, stalking around in his tennis shoes, staring at someone or making uncalled for comments. Mello searched and searched but couldn't find the head of black hair that usually was beside him, talking his ear off.

"Jesus," he sighed, stopping in front of the Christmas tree. They were decorating it and were almost done, the tree not yet lit but looking very festive all the same.

"Why are you calling on Jesus?"

Mello gasped and jumped a bit, finding L at his side. "L!"

L looked at him. "Yes?"

"Ah… nothing." Mello's gaze drifted downwards to see something he never had before - a bag in L's hand. "Oh, you finally found a gift, huh?"

"Indeed, I did."

"That's good. I found one too," Mello said, smirking and handed the box over to the raven-haired man. L took it, eyes widening in mild surprise. He stared at it for a moment and Mello urged him, "Come on, open it!"

L nodded and did as he was told, pulling out a pair of bright red swimming trunks. L blinked at them and then at Mello.

Mello laughed raucously. "Get it? You said you liked swimsuit season!"

"I do recall. Thank you, Mello."

"… It's a joke. Because, I bet you meant you liked bikinis and-"

"Then your joke has failed, since I did not mean bikinis."

"…"

"Here, take this." L handed over the bag he had carried to a limp-handed Mello.

Mello looked at it. "W-What is it?"

"Mel_lo_!"

Mello didn't get a chance to turn around before he was viciously hugged from behind. Matt's arms came around his neck and he laughed as Mello struggled for air. When Matt figured he had choked his friend enough, he let go and smiled at him. "Hey there, bet you didn't expect my darling face today."

Mello coughed. "N-No, I didn't… what're you doing here anyway?"

"I came to see the Christmas tree! And, you know, to look at the _Wii system _in the window of _GameStop_. Cough, cough."

"You're not slick, Matt."

L elbowed Mello and pointed to Matt. "Give the bag to him."

Mello blinked and looked down at the bag but handed it over to Matt anyway. Matt opened it curiously, digging around inside. "What's th - holyshitit'saWii!"

Mello gaped. "What?"

"Aw, _thanks_, Mello!"

"But I didn't-" Mello looked back at L who stood there nonchalantly, his hand in the air and shaking his head.

"I want no credit," he said.

Matt was still hugging his game system and Mello gave the man a lopsided sort of grin. He taped Matt on the shoulder and gestured to L. "Hey, Matt, stop making out for one second. L, this is Matt. Matt, this is L."

"Ohh, so this is the one," Matt mused. "So, Mel here tells me you're creepy."

"Mello has told me you're cheap."

"… Touché."

Mello sighed and ignore Matt's attempts at provoking. "Hey, you know, I got a big tip for a massage I gave today," he informed L.

"Really?"

"Yeah, a twenty."

"Great," Matt said, putting an arm around Mello. "How about you treat us to Starbucks then, Mister Bigshot?"

Mello frowned a little and looked at the Wii in Matt's other hand. He shrugged lightly. "What the hell. L, you coming? I'll treat you too."

"Ah, thank you for the invite."

"You're not going to pull a fast one and disappear, are you?"

"I may… if there isn't enough sugar."

"Haha."

"I was not joking."

- - -

A/N: _Well, tell me thoughts, if you would. Sorry about the late Christmas present. If you're wondering if Romance is being neglected, it's not, it's all written out, just not posted. _

_Ciao. _


End file.
